


Cycle of Seasons

by wrongaboutme



Series: The Moonlight Creatures [2]
Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: F/M, Werewolves, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-08 19:10:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20840564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrongaboutme/pseuds/wrongaboutme
Summary: After a tough journey, Éowyn and Faramir are marked by each other, married in the fashion of werewolves. This story follows right after their union.





	1. Winter

**Winter**

She wakes alone in Faramir’s bed; the dawn just breaks. Sniffing the air she smells coffee and toasts. Swiftly she dresses and gets downstairs. The brothers are in the kitchen making breakfast.

She hugs Faramir from behind as he cooks bacon and eggs. “I’ve missed you in our bed.” Seeing the bite mark among the hickeys on his neck arouses her again.

“Young wolf, control yourself.” Boromir rolls his eyes as he sips the coffee. Last night they have engaged in a rather heated session of lovemaking. It isn’t fun when his bedroom is right next to theirs.

Faramir pats her hands gently so that he can turn to kiss her. It is brief but sweet. “Go prepare the table. It’s almost ready.” His voice is still hoarse from last night. 

After breakfast, they return to bed again because they have to save their energy for tonight. It is the solstice and the Gondorian pack has invited Éowyn over for the annual hunt since she has been marked by Faramir. The lovers cuddle and sleep the whole day away until it is evening. As the sun sets, the three of them strip off their clothes, exposing their skins to the moonlight. Under the call of their nature, they transform into wolves, two black and one white.

Éowyn loves Ithilien: the terrain with the evergreen forest is good for werewolves. The snow is soft under her paws and she happily rolls in them.

Boromir barks at her. _ What a child_, he thinks, and urges her to get up for the meeting. Éowyn barks back fiercely, though she obeys the order and starts running with the two Gondorian wolves. As they are on the way, there is a summoning howl far away. It is Denethor, calling his pack to gather. They hurry to the point and find about fifty wolves there, socialising before the hunt. She is easy to spot among the dark furs and many come to greet her. Politely she lets them sniff her so that they can recognise Faramir’s mark on her. They acknowledge her as a member of the pack and welcome her to the family. 

Another howl from Denethor signals the hunt. The Gondorians are excited, howl back in answer his call, and run in different directions to chase their preys. Faramir too takes off, Éowyn right behind her. He has explained concern over the hunt for he doesn’t want to hurt an animal for competition, so the couple strays and finds a reclusive spot. Knowing the area like the back of his hand, he takes her to a cave away from prying ears and they snuggle. She sighs happily, watching the snow, and feels she is in heaven with Faramir next to her. He rubs his face on her neck to reapply his scent. He is aware of those jealous young wolves when they saw Éowyn.

_ They know I am yours, _ she whimpers. _ Stop rubbing. My furs are going to fall off and I will smell like you for weeks! _

He yelps back. _ That’s my point! _and continues his work. She playfully tries to bite his neck to stop him, and he bites back. Eventually, it turns into a wrestle and they are fighting to be on top of each other. Faramir is physically stronger but he always lets her win. So the white wolf settles nicely on top of him and bites on his throat teasingly to claim victory. He purrs out of pleasure; it feels good to have her touched and licked the biting mark. Boromir said she has him wrapped between her fingers. Well, he doesn’t mind at all.

Éowyn jumps off him when she feels the hardness poking at her belly. _ Not here,_ she eyes his erection cautiously. She doesn’t feel safe out in the woods, regardless of the fact that it is the Gondorian territory. 

Faramir flips back to his paws and wills himself to soften. Omegas are sensitive to their surroundings. They feel vulnerable in unfamiliar environments. So he suggests getting back to the mansion.

_ What about the hunt? _She asks quietly as they jog. 

_ We wouldn’t be missed. _He says. He never wins from the hunts before and no one really cares where they are. Éowyn snickers. She figures as much. Faramir never likes preying on animals for fun even if it is the tradition. Being with her gives him an excuse to stay away from the bloody scene and she gladly obliges. 

* * *

As soon as he enters the threshold, he hears it. There is a sweet moan coming from upstairs like a man is being strangled, then dead silence. “Oh, Valar saves me.” Boromir curses. He has wondered where his little brother has gone. He shouldn’t be surprised.

He is exhausted from the hunt; there is blood all over him, not his though. The animal has been deposited in the hut outside, waiting to be cut and dried tomorrow. He doesn’t have the energy to deal with them just yet. So he sits down in the dining room and gets himself a drink.

After a moment Faramir walks in. He is naked too and is startled by the sight of him sitting in one of the chairs. “You are back.” His voice is tight and it cracks at the last vowel. 

_ Of course it would be, after all the screaming. _ Boromir laughs inside. “I won again.” The scratches on his back are not missed by his sharp eyes.

“I have no doubt about it,” Faramir replies and goes for the tap. He downs an entire cup of water.

“Thirsty, eh?” 

The young Gondorian wolf pinches his nosebridge. “You want one?”

“I’m fine. Get one for your girl. I bet she needs it too.” Boromir teases with a huge grin.

He grunts; and right on time, Éowyn shouts from upstairs. “Come back, my stud!”

Blushing furiously as his brother bursts into laughter, Faramir hurried back to his room. “Boromir is down there!” He whines in embarrassment. Yet when she simply shrugs, he growls with mischief in his eyes. “I am going to punish you, naughty wolf.”

Éowyn smirks. This is going to be another long night.


	2. Spring

**Spring**

The night sky is dark with few stars and the moon is hiding behind the thick clouds. Faramir quietly lowers himself next to Éowyn, who is observing the animal through the binoculars. Far away from their position, a pregnant brown mare is pacing back and forth, kicking her belly from time to time. The horse is about to give birth.

“Thanks,” Éowyn says as he hands her the water bottle. The Rohirrim usually lets the mares to foal in the pasture instead of a stall, and they would stay away from them so that their wolf scents would not alarm the animals. Originally Faramir and she have planned a run in the Firien Wood, but the park ranger is curious about the foal and thus they stay to watch over. 

It is a long process; they have made sure there is enough fresh water and food nearby and secured a safe perimeter to separate the pregnant mare from other horses. Then they camp and wait well until the sun has gone down.

“Is it about to happen?” He asks. Even though there is a distance between them and the animal, he is keeping his voice low.

“An hour or two.” She rolls to her side and drinks some water. She offers it to Faramir but he shakes his head. “You haven’t seen one before?”

“We avoid them when we patrol. Most I have seen are carcasses.” He explains. As a ranger, it is their job to protect them from humans. Conserving and helping animals are handled by forestry. That’s why he is curious about foaling. He has never seen any animal giving birth before.

Éowyn’s eyes soften. Seeing Faramir being excited and anxious about a new life coming to earth makes her heart swell in adoration. It reminds her of herself riding a horse for the first time. She was so thrilled that she actually cried when her father carefully put her in front of him on horseback. After the terrible fates of her parents, she avoided the stables because it pained her to see a horse without her father there. Éomund was a horse lover and an extraordinary trainer.

“What’s wrong?” Faramir asks and soothes her arms. He is gentle and sensitive to her feelings. He always notices when she is upset.

She leans closer so that their shoulders are touching. “I am glad you are here.” 

He knows then it is something about her parents. She is evasive when it comes to this subject and he doesn’t want to push her. She will tell her when she wants to. So he smiles and takes the binoculars to look at the mare. 

The horse seems irritated and restless. He watches it attentively as Éowyn watches him. His lips are pursed into a thin line when he concentrates on a task. He has those tiny crow’s feet that she finds absolutely adorable. His dark hair is caressed by the tender wind and she wants to feel them between her fingers. Aware of her intense stare, he turns to ask. “Is something on my face?”

She pecks his cheek and earns herself a firm one on the mouth. 

They stay like that, laying on the ground and waiting patiently until the mare shows sign of the delivery. Éowyn grips his hand. “Look!” 

Faramir quickly picks up the binoculars again. The mare has lain down and with the dim starlight, he can see a pair of legs is coming out. For several minutes it sits up and lies back, but the sack is still mostly inside. She comforts him when the mare stands to walk around. “It’s alright. It will help the foaling.”

It lies down again. This time the contraction intensifies and he almost jumps when the sack slips out from the mare completely. The air is still for a moment before the foal starts to thrash about to escape from the sack.

“Well, that’s uneventful.” Éowyn comments.

“That’s good.” Faramir releases the breath he has been holding. “It is wonderful.” His heart warms at the sight of the mare licking the membrane off its foal. It brings a grin to his face.

“We can get closer now.” 

Then they cautiously approach the animals. Éowyn tugs the trough of fresh water closer and the mare drinks it gladly. Faramir brings the hay and feeds it a handful before it tends to the foal. The newborn is struggling to stand and he encourages it nervously. “Come on, little one. Come on!” And when it stands on its own shaky legs, he grins happily like a proud father.

“It’s a colt,” Éowyn informs him.

“Have you thought of the name yet?” 

“No. Théoden names them.”

“Oh.” He looks disappointed, eyes never leaving the small colt. So she rounds her arms around his waist and rests her chin on his broad shoulder. “You have something in mind?”

“Maybe.” He tilts her chin up so that he could look her in the eye. “How about Windfola?”

“How?” Éowyn’s eyes widen.  _ How does he know? _ Windfola is the name of her first horse, a gift from her father for her five-years-old birthday. The horse died of cancer just a year after Éomund’s death and she has never actually owned a horse ever since. 

“Théoden.” Faramir touches her cold cheek, grey eyes gentle and loving. “He said you were a great rider. Young and talented. Once he thought you might become a jockey.” The rest he doesn’t say because they both know what happened afterwards. She has chosen the easy path: avoid anything that would make her remember the happiness of the haunting past. “I stand by you, remember?” He strokes her jaw and then to the mark he left on her neck. 

She closes her eyes and feels a tingling sensation runs through her body. With Faramir, she finds the bravery to face the dreadful memories. She spares a glance at Windfola and kisses her dark handsome park ranger passionately. He hums in approval and pulls her close. They are breathless when they part. 

They stay for three more hours to make sure the horses are healthy, then they get back to the house for a hot meal and cuddle for the rest of the night. 

As Faramir is sleeping in her arms, she knows that  _ the day _ will soon come.


	3. Summer

**Summer**

Éowyn is swimming in the ocean. She feels the salty water and the sun on her skin. She waves at the tall figure standing on the deck, “Come on! This is amazing!”

Faramir chuckles in adoration. She is excited about being in the deep blue water and she is flushed by the sunlight and warm weather. He takes off his shirt. With a short sprint, he jumps off and plummets into the water. Éowyn screams in laughter when he tickles her waist. Amrothos is riding a jet ski with Lothíriel. He drives by them and the waves splash onto their faces. 

Éowyn tries to fight back but she is at a disadvantage. She has nothing except a floating board. Swiftly Amrothos drives off to the distance to join Erchirion as his sister urges him to get away from the revengeful Rohirrim. 

She grits her teeth at the missed chance. Faramir immediately turns to her. “Race to the buoy?”

With a smirk, she dives underwater. He follows right behind her. However, it is Faramir who gets there first.

“Cheater,” he tugs her close to whisper into her ear. “Am I getting a reward?” His fingers play with the strings of her bikini. She trembles under his touch, partly due to the cool seawater, partly because of the anticipation.

Éowyn stops his hand from going further. “We shall see.”

They stay in the water until Imrahil calls them back to the boat. Elphir hands them towels and beers when they get back on the deck. Faramir and Éowyn want to help but Imrahil refuses to let them work since they are there as guests, so they sit down and enjoy the spectacle of the Bay of Belfalas. Eventually, the three younger children return from their adventures and they sail back to Dol Amroth. Imrahil has a large estate by the shore and he has generously invited Éowyn and Faramir to stay at his place when they told him they were having a summer holiday in the city. 

Once they are back in the guest room, Faramir drags Éowyn into the bathroom with him. “What’s your plan?” She asks with a smile as he begins to strip.

“No plan at all.” He is completely naked now and he eyes her lustfully head to toe. “Are you joining me?” And he steps into the shower.

“Hm...” 

She watches Faramir touching himself, water flowing over his muscular body from the curve of his shoulders to his wakening manhood. He leans on the cold tile wall behind him for support and starts to stroke himself, their eyes never stray from each other. One of his hand plays with his own nipple and she cannot control herself any longer. Almost tearing her shirt, she gets into the stream and kisses him. He moans sweetly and their tongues dance in passion. She pins his hands against the wall and plants her lips on his throat, sucking the biting mark she left there a year ago and is thrilled to have him trembled under her touch. Then she moves to his chest, teasing and biting the nipples until he begs her for release. She likes seeing him like this, flushed and breath taken because of her. She gropes his hardness and he bucks into her hand. 

“_Please, _ Éowyn.” He says, voice strained with desire. 

She grants his wish; quickening her strokes and sealing his mouth with hers, Faramir comes. “Oh Valar,” His breaths rugged, and he obediently licks her sticky fingers clean when she raises them to his lips.

“My dear black wolf,” Éowyn pants, lust flaming inside her body. 

Faramir recovers from the high and tugs her close to rid of her bikini. Éowyn leans into his embrace when his large hands cup her ass. He kisses her as a hand sneaks under and finds her sensitive button. The passing year they have explored each other’s body that no one else has. He knows her throughout. Skillfully his thumb fondles while inserting fingers inside her, thrusting slowly. She is already wet and aroused by watching him come. With a shudder, she reaches climax in his arms, feeling the amazing chill that shoots up from the bottom of her spine.

In the end, it takes them half an hour to finish the shower. When they are dressed and get into the dining room, the whole family of Imrahil is waiting for them at the table. Lothíriel teases. “Something must have caused the delay.” Faramir ignores her blandly and her brothers are trying to hide their snickers.

Imrahil has hired a chef to cook for them in the house. Éowyn’s mouth waters at the delicious smell of the steak. At first she is intimidated by Faramir’s large extended family; Imrahil is a successful businessman and his children excel at various industries. She feels like a peasant in their grand estate. However, they are easy to be with, especially Lothíriel. She is at ease with them now and they often tease Faramir about how deep he has fallen for her. He seems more relaxed next to Imrahil than Denethor; she notes with dismay. Even though Denethor praises highly of his deed in eradicating Saurman, many years of distance and coldness puts them in a strange position. 

“Come with me.”

After dinner, Faramir seeks her out to walk along the cliff. Outside she can taste the salt from the wind. The sun has set and the night sky is decorated with a full moon. Not far ahead there is an isle with a lighthouse, guiding the boats and ships in the Bay. They walk quietly, listening to the splashes of waves hitting the rocks below the cliff, bathing in the moonlight. They enjoy the company of each other in silence. 

“It means a lot to me that you are here, Éowyn.” The black-haired Gondorian says. “Imrahil has been… more of a father to me after my mother died.” He stops when they reach a sharp turn on the cliff. She listens quietly. He has told her before that when he was studying in Minas Tirith, during holidays he went to Dol Amroth instead of Ithilien just to avoid his father. It is obvious that they are much closer when there is a comparison. Faramir is more comfortable with his uncle. With Denethor, he is always careful, mindful of what he speaks and how he acts. 

“Your uncle is a great man. He treats you like a son when Denethor is not there for you.” She cups his cold face. Her warm hands bring colours to his cheeks. 

“I learnt how to be a man from Boromir and him. I aspire to be someone like him; strong, supportive, caring for his family..." 

Faramir is insecure, yet he shouldn't. He is gentle, sensitive, protective of what he loves. She is certain that he would not become a man like Denethor. Suddenly a thought comes to her mind and she says it bluntly. 

“You would be a great father.”

Faramir sucks in a quick breath.“Éowyn…”_ Is this what he thinks it is? _

She presses close until there is no space left between them, their noses brushing. “Do you want to be the father of my child?”

A rapture explodes in his chest; he nods rapidly with a grin, “Yes. _ Yes, _ Éowyn. I want to. Yes!” He kisses her then, both with a smile on their lips. “I love you, my brave, Rohirrim wolf,” he whispers once they break apart. 

Éowyn pinches his cheek lovingly. This is the day. Building a family with Faramir sounds perfect to her.


End file.
